


Written In Blood

by PrinceInky



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Awkward Sexual Tension, Blood Pact, Denial, Dreams and Nightmares, M/M, Mutual Pining, Rating will go up when the smut happens, Secrets, Trust Issues, Uh-oh, Update when I can, Why Can't They Just Be Happy, WidoFjord Week 2019, bad-timing, campaign compliant to a point, everybody is lying, everyone's got anxiety, fuck you Uk'otoa, hurt/comfort but probably more hurt, self hate, self-sabotaging, shovel speech, slow burn?, unexpected consequences, wait somethings not right
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 07:52:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19246960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceInky/pseuds/PrinceInky
Summary: Blood magic often has unexpected consequences, especially when demi-gods are involved.The Blood pact between Caleb and Fjord puts these two and all their repressed feeling and self-hatred centerfold as they can no longer afford to avoid having uncomfortable conversations. As things continue all might not be as it seems and the consequences might just put the Nine at odds with each other, and possibly the rest of Wildemount as their action or inaction teeters the balance of the powers that be.





	Written In Blood

**Author's Note:**

> This was an idea I've had floating around since the blood pact episode aired and it was thanks for Widofjord week 2019 that even gave me a reason to take to writing again. Here's hoping you like it as much as I had fun writing it.

#  **CALEB**

 

Research was where Caleb excelled best. The study, getting down to the root of it, the tree from whence the pages were crafted. The beginning from which it grew, the secrets held close to the heart, the makings of history, of magic, of beast, or in this case man. 

Not just any man, truly only part man, though he doubted the distinction would be appreciated. He studied Fjord. He studied all of his compatriots in kind, but Fjord was by far the most dangerous, the most enticing, had the most potential to play with fire with him instead of against him. 

While he wasn't a physically imposing force, though at times he could almost persuade some otherwise, his most dangerous feature was his curiosity. Caleb could relate, he knew all too well where curiosity could lead, how dangerous it could be. More so than brute strength or magic alone, knowledge had capabilities to get you places nothing else could, but there's always risk. After all, some truths are better left in the dark.

That’s not to say that Fjord wasn’t impressive in his own right. He had magic though it wasn’t quite like any Caleb had seen firsthand. He had seen magic come from study and practice, gods and goddesses, and yet Fjord’s patron was different. Even he was in the dark about who or what exactly Uk'otoa was, though he was sure Fjord was holding just as much back about his past as he was his own. That held its own kind of enticement though.

He watched as Fjord struggled and lied and manipulated those around him. How this wasn’t limited to their enemies, how you never quite knew what he would do next. A wave of familiar guilt washed over him as he remembered how he suggested Fjord do what he could to pave an easier path with Avantika. He could feel his jaw clench, throat tight to avoid the truth from spilling out. His body physically willing the thoughts away.

He hoped Jester would decide against her past or even current feelings for the man, he wasn’t good for her, at least not as he was now. Caleb may have pushed the issue and he took some responsibility for how his urging Fjord towards _"that woman"_ hurt Jester. He cared for all of them in his own way, but hurt seemed inevitable for all of them. Best to realize now than when it hurts more, though that hadn't exactly been his thoughts on it at the time. Too caught up in safety and his own agenda, no, he didn't want any more emotional casualties. 

Jester was all sunbeams and sugar, more than most of them deserved, and Fjord, well you could almost see all his secrets writhe in his every shadow threatening to spill out. While Nott and Beau held the title for most dexterous, Fjord’s evasion was characterized through words. Of all of their companions, they knew the least about him, what motivated him, what he really thought, how he grew up. He didn't share his pain with the others, kept it close to the chest, and what he did say often left more questions than answers. It was always a game of chess with him, two steps forward one step back, nonetheless, it was a game he intended to win.

The withholding nature his friend exemplified was never in outright maliciousness, at least not that Caleb could tell. He had seen malice, he had been the definition of it once upon a time; a harbinger, an omen that walked but spoke with another voice, another name in another time. He shook the thoughts away but their essence remained, he wondered if Fjord had experienced similar losses. What's another name to a man living another life after all? Did he also kill a part of himself to rip away the corruption? There was much he didn't know.

Fjords magic was what initially caught Caleb's attention. Though it was his secrets that kept his interest. He was sure he could use someone like Fjord in his own endeavors with magic. Nott would disagree, her paranoid nature towards the unknown wasn’t out of place. It centered Caleb, reminded him of the danger that could lurk behind a false accent, but there was a kinship there nonetheless, more than that, Fjord was curious. Impulsive to do, and touch, and act, and always ready to throw himself headfirst into curiosity, be damned the consequences. 

Fjord was exactly the kind of person Caleb needed. 

Weeks had passed since their little excursions as pirates. He was surprised how things ended, though Caleb was aware it had more to do with their companions than what Fjord actually wanted. He saw the itch in his eyes, the urge for power, to become something different, someone he never saw in the mirror until recently. A reality he hasn’t yet realized, too consumed with the past the future turns distorted. 

However, all that paled in comparison to the curiosity. Rewards? Release? A prison from the Calamity or something older? 

In the end, it was all was hardly worth the effort, at least if you measured that kind of thing in physical rewards. Risky is what it was, for all of them, and yet he had learned so much about his companions he couldn't find himself to be too upset. It helped that he didn’t quite think Uk’otoa was done with Fjord nor Fjord with it, whatever kind of god or powerful force it was. Gifts often given in promise can be just as easily manipulated. They had learned enough of Avantika and Vandren to know at least that much.

Knowledge was power and Dashilla had given him exactly what he needed from Fjord. He didn't lie, he _was_ always curious, though he was glad they hadn’t completed the ritual and fucked their only ride home. That would’ve been hard to explain to the others, he cringed as his mind pictured their faces of disgust and betrayal. It was bad enough that he was sure one or two of the others had seen their little display in the lair. He was sure someone would bring it up sooner or later. He was hoping for later.

Caleb looked away from watching Frumpkin pace along the top of the dome and down to the bandage wrapped around his hand. Many things had changed that night. He looked at the others asleep in curled piles behind him and smiled internally. He had grown fond of this rag-tag group of theirs, he hadn’t wanted to, and even now he knew it would have been better if he had left before he started to get attached. It wouldn't do any good dwelling on it, though he also knew that wouldn’t stop him.

The bandage was dirty and frayed from making their way through the tunnels they had found under Felderwin. Nott’s husband kidnapped by the Kryn, it was dark and precarious at best, he didn’t blame Fjord for suggesting they go back the way they came, this was an unsavory place. Thankfully the tracks were reliable enough, though Caleb found himself wishing there was more time to explore the underground rivers, or he at least had darkvision himself. He wondered if they could find someone to map them for him, it seemed like any potential secret tunnel could be useful to any number of their crew.

Frumpkin drags Caleb’s attention for a second as he hisses at a roper that goes by but it’s a momentary distraction at best and all soon returns to normal, just the quiet even breathing of the others for company. Caleb has been musing for a while and he still had an hour before his watch was up. His bandaged hand grabs his attention again and he glances at Fjord’s still figure on the ground then back to his hand. It should have healed better by now.

Tentatively he prods the bandage and winces at the shock of ice-cold pain he feels dig its way up the nerve endings in his arm. He sighs softly as he begins the process of undoing them. While he had removed the other bandages that covered the long-healed scars on his arms, this wasn’t something he was ready to share. As the last bit falls away he stares at the wound. Red and irritated the skin was puffed and sore, but only to the touch. He was keeping it clean though, and he supposed without proper skill in medicine this is what he had to deal with. He put a bit of salve over it to help keep dirt out and sucked in a breath as his fingers glided over a particularly sore part.

Curious is what it was. It had healed for a time, as it always seems to do in intervals, yet instead of scabbing over or scarring it just goes back to being raw and fresh as if he just got it days ago instead of weeks. Then the cycle would start again.

Caleb pulls fresh wrappings from a pocket inside his coat and begins covering the wound all over again. At first, he assumed it was some kind of magical after effect from the altar in Dashilla’s lair. He remembered the look on Fjord’s face as he slapped his bloodied hand down a blink away from death at Fjord’s behest. There was something at that moment, the crook of Fjord’s smile, the set of his jaw, the physical draw of that chaotic energy that often surrounds him. It was infectious and Caleb had given in, a part of him pulling just as hard towards the danger, the curious, the undeniable.

Green fingers had clasped around his pale white, wound to wound, the blood intertwining between them and around them as it drifted through the water. Fjord had put meaning in their small ritual and that was all that mattered, blood was just blood, but then again…

Now as he looked at his hand, maybe it wasn't. He had earned a favor though, so even if Nott left after they found or somehow managed to rescue her husband, he had some semblance of a plan, of someone who would help him do what needed to be done. 

The hand could wait, he could deal with the pain as long as he had too. A 10ft wide tunnel was hardly a place to be having conversations he wasn't sure he wanted other ears to hear. This was between them, and it was about time he got some answers. Even if that meant giving up a few of his own.

 

 

#  **FJORD**

 

It’s during their climb out of the tunnels that Fjord finally realizes something is off. Since he, Jester, and Nott had the benefit of darkvision, they often took turns leading the group so he hadn't had much of a chance to check in with any one individual. Fjord had taken a backseat during this ascent and let most of the others start ahead of him. Seeing Caleb nearly fall to his death several times was... concerning. 

Thankfully, with mostly Jester’s help, though she had some scares herself, they made it, but that wasn’t before Fjord noticed blood dripping off some of the rocks. From there it was just a matter of looking up and catching the ruddy wraps and shaking hands of their wizard. 

Caleb wasn’t usually one to hide, well not in this way. Being vulnerable wasn’t as hard for him as it was the rest of them. He barely knew how to handle being in his own skin and he had eyes enough to see Beau and Yasha had their own anxieties. Then again that particular ability just seemed to go with the rest of Caleb’s magic or maybe his history, he wasn't sure he liked either answer. Powerful as he was, it came with some mighty hefty drawbacks, and that was something Fjord was becoming intimately acquainted with. 

In fact, just the thought of the most recent onslaughts from his patron made him grind his teeth in an effort to push the thoughts out of his mind. This was not the kind of stuff he would ever be comfortable with, as of late he preferred thinking about anything else. He could handle his and his own, but there was something about Caleb's behavior that was rubbing him the wrong way. 

He didn’t end up having much time to think about it before Deucy spotted a figure about 40 feet away. The telltale sound of a spell being cast and failing drew everyone's attention. Thankfully, Fjord’s assertiveness and quick action via misty step saved them from a potentially dangerous encounter from a small garrison of Dwendalian scouts, and in particular, the favor of a man named Kaulden. 

It was another facet from his time with Vandren that tended to show himself when danger was afoot. He doesn't remember being this confident or intimidating in the past, deferring to rank more often than not, but since he had grouped up with the Mighty Nine people seemed to defer to his presence. He couldn't say he hated it, but it also worried him that this was another grip Uk’otoa used to secure this bond.

Kaulden thankfully was helpful in both knowledge, offerings, and warnings about this strange new land. At least strange to most of them, though Yasha wasn’t particularly familiar with this area of Xhorhas, she at least had some idea of the danger they were foolishly walking into. Though it seemed they were all underprepared for the immediate danger they were in. An arrow lodging itself right into Kaulden initiated an ambush they were all too close to losing. Caleb managing to counter that counterspell in the heat of the moment really gave them the edge they needed to walk out of there with their lives.

Fjord was exhausted, these close calls always left him reeling, the exhaustion seeping into every muscle, tension still coursing through his nerves even hours later. He couldn’t even imagine how Jester was feeling, seeing her go down really made it apparent what kind of danger they were really in. Eventually, after much travel, they decide to camp just as the sun goes down. They aren’t particularly safe but everyone does their part to make sure precautions are taken. Caleb has just enough magic to make his hut and decide to sleep in shifts. Fjord takes the first watch, he knows once he’s asleep waking again would be too dang hard, they were all tired and drained, there would be time enough to talk to Caleb later. 

He wakes Caduceus for the second watch and promptly passes out. Uk'otoa had other plans though. Cold, they always started off with cold. That see your breath when you exhale kinda cold, teeth chattering, bones aching, water rising, choking, clawing. It always through him off because he didn't feel wet, just the sudden weight of cold pressing down on his chest until he was forced to open his eyes. He always tried to keep them closed. Deny it. Especially lately…

The weight got tighter and tighter in his chest, his heart hammering against his ribs--whole chest thrumming with the force of it. Weight pulling at his legs anchoring him to the spot, rope-like tethers squeezing, wrapping, binding, but still this time he kept his eyes shut. 

_**Release**_.

_Not likely_. Especially considering how far they were, but fear was still clawing its way into his throat as the booming, grating, all-encompassing sound of Uk’otoa dug into his skin. Curious as he was, as much as he ached for that power, he didn't want to risk who he was. Whoever that was now. Nott might have called him evil, and the others might suspect him from time to time, but that didn't mean he wanted to be. He just wanted to be free, or special, or, something, somebody. The magic felt good, felt right, powerful, but Uk’otoa did not. Why him? Why couldn't it just be easy, like Jester, or Caleb, or even Ducey with his weird dead shit?

_**Reward**_.

Fjord swallowed. Body tensing for what was coming next. _No, no, no, no. Please don't. Not this time. Not again._ That's what he told himself but the pounding in his chest became forceful enough it knocked the last of the air from his lungs, eyes spreading open in reflective panic.

But the eye in front of him was yellow and piercing as ever, a speck in comparison to the extraordinary size of the glowing orb. Uk'otoa wouldn't let him drown, just keep him on the cusp of passing out until whatever point he felt needed repeating was repeated. But things had been a little different lately. Visions would come, torment him, then back to the usual; almost drown, wake up and upchuck an uncomfortable amount of seawater, but this wasn't like that, this was different, it was taking too long.

Someone was there with him, it started as that prickle of hair on the back of his neck. He couldn't see who it was, only the peripheral could catch a glimpse of another figure tethered by tentacles, shrouded in darkness. Someone else was looking for the temple then? He wasn't sure, but something about not going through this alone both terrified and relieved him. 

_**Punish.** _

Fjord tensed, body ready for the helpless feeling of being slowly crushed and suffocated only it didn't come. This time there was movement and not just his heart hammering against his ribs. More eyes were revealed around him, eyes so big they thundered through the water as they opened. First one, then two, then six, until soon the abyss around him was aglow with that devilish yellow aura. Watching him from all sides, being seen to his very core.

_**PUNISH.** _

Uk’otoa’s loud reverberating sound rocked everything around him and then he was falling. No, not falling, turning, then dragged towards something, someone. The other figure in the water. The body was floating lifelessly, curled almost bonelessly in that tentacled grip, back bent at an odd angle, arms hanging unnaturally. The glow from the eyes illuminated exactly what he was supposed to see. _That hair, that coat...no. NO! You can't have him._

Fjord struggled against his binds, tugged and pulled and fought. The tentacles budged and writhed but no ground was gained. For every inch he moved, Uk’otoa added more and more loops around him. Tighter and tighter they got until even his vision was drowned out by the limbs. Falling, choking, dying and still he reached out even if it was only with his mind.

_Caleb._

Fjord came to with a rush of panic and a lungful of salt water. Eyes immediately darting for the wizard who was looking at him with an equally panicked look. Sound buzzed in his ears and he had to shake his head momentarily for the sound of his friend's voice to pierce through the fog. The sight of his lifeless body hanging in the water just moments ago still very present behind his eyes. It took more effort then he would have liked to try to speak levelly instead of as--as whatever he was right now. He didn't have the capacity for much thought beyond, _it was just a dream, it was just a dream, it was just a dream._

“I’m fine,” he finally gets out. It’s a lie, they both know it and so does Beau, who he just now notices is eyeing him with an indecisive gaze. Beau would let it go, that he was sure, she had her own shit and as long as he wasn’t causing trouble she wouldn't bother him too much. He stayed out of her way as much as possible, Caleb was another story.

“Are you sure you’re okay, friend?” 

His accent was thick and sleepy and Fjord silently cherished his sounds of life after what he just saw. _He’s fine, he’s alive. Breathe._

He coughed a bit more and took an offered waterskin to clear out the last of the salt in his mouth. “I reckon I’m as good as I can be.”

Caleb tilted his head a bit and offered him a sad smile. It said both I’m sorry, and I understand. They didn't always need words, pain speaks to pain easily enough. He watched as Caleb turned away and back to Beau. They must have been on watch together. Fjord took the moment of privacy to rub his hands down his face and take a shallow but shaky breath, trying to ground himself. 

The panic and pressure still lived in his chest. What was he going to do now? What did Caleb have to do with it? Why now? Things were changing, first the dreams and now what, a threat of a different kind? He got up and stepped out of the tiny hut, away from the others, he needed fresh air, to breathe in a world that wasn’t surrounded by water, or people who would ask questions he didn't know the answers to.

Minutes passed by and the pressure of a hand landing on his shoulder brought him out of his haze of uneasy thoughts. He didn't need to look, he just knew and let himself, even for a moment be comforted by the silence and his touch. 

Caleb cleared his throat before he spoke, almost like an apology for breaking the silence. “I think we might need to have a difficult conversation. Not now, but soon, ja?”

Fjord tensed and immediately wished he repressed the reaction as Caleb’s hand retreated in response. He kept his eyes on the beginning of their first Xhorhasian sunrise, refusing to let his companion see the disappointment on his face. Some things are better when kept close to the chest.

He sighed, “Yeah. That we do.”

**Author's Note:**

> So there's chapter one. Not sure how often I can update but as long as I'm excited about telling the story I'll keep working on it as I can. You can find me on [Tumblr](princeinky.tumblr.com) or [@PrinceInky](https://twitter.com/PrinceInky) on Twitter. Kudo's are appreciated. Thanks.


End file.
